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Fear the Banshee's Wail. For 'tis death she be foretellin', as sure as if an arrow pierced ye heart...
What was a colleen supposed to do when her husband was assassinated, stolen from her, taken afore her very eyes? And herself severely wounded and left fer dead? She be hearin' the banshee's wail twice before, but never this loud! This close! But the killer was still loose and she waited, mired in dread and terror, fearin' the banshee's next wail, fer she knew the banshee would be wailin' fer her...
Mary Gorden awoke and found she was alone. What was left of her past, stripped away in a few seconds of pure terror! Her identity had vanished and she did not know herself or what her future would be. Her memories and longings took advantage of her weakness and her despair held her captive in her grief. She was angry! Angry over the hand that fate had dealt her; angry that she was the one that survived, trapped in her terrifying reality.
What was a colleen supposed to do when her husband was assassinated, stolen from her, taken afore her very eyes? And herself severely wounded and left fer dead? She be hearin' the banshee's wail twice before, but never this loud! This close! But the killer was still loose and she waited, mired in dread and terror, fearin' the banshee's next wail, fer she knew the banshee would be wailin' fer her...
Mary Gorden awoke and found she was alone. What was left of her past, stripped away in a few seconds of pure terror! Her identity had vanished and she did not know herself or what her future would be. Her memories and longings took advantage of her weakness and her despair held her captive in her grief. She was angry! Angry over the hand that fate had dealt her; angry that she was the one that survived, trapped in her terrifying reality.
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